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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28146228">An Ocean Between Accellaise and Orglando</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/inalasahl/pseuds/inalasahl'>inalasahl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Jelle's Marble Runs (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:22:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,023</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28146228</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/inalasahl/pseuds/inalasahl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A mishap in the underwater friendly round changes Kinnowin and Speedy's lives.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kinnowin O'Marble/Speedy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Yuletide 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>An Ocean Between Accellaise and Orglando</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyoh/gifts">heyoh</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Place names, etc. and some of the general background details are from the <a href="https://jellesmarbleruns.com/blog/">blog</a> and the <a href="https://jellesmarbleruns.fandom.com/wiki/Marble_League_Wiki">wiki.</a> Including the O'rangers last name of O'Marble.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>2019 — Pre-Marble League Interview</p>
<p>"In a recent interview you stated that it was Mandarin, your older brother, who first had the idea that your family should form a team and try to compete professionally. Obviously, it's worked out, but what did you all think when he initially suggested it? Were you on board right away or did you have to be talked into it?" The interviewer looked at him expectantly. Kinnowin kept his left hand loose and relaxed, even as his right reached for his water to buy time. He was much more used to this kind of thing now than when they had started, but it still was weird to sit in a room and have a conversation with one person while ignoring all the other people in the room, pretending that their lives weren't, in this moment, a part of each other. He swallowed his sip and gave a small chuckle that he hoped sounded breezy rather than fake. "I don't think the rest of us saw the potential right away," he began, trying to come up with a true enough answer. He wondered if his brothers and sisters would get the same question when it was their turn.</p>
<p>
  <em>As soon as he got to the treeline, Kinnowin unwound himself. He'd need his legs to climb. It didn't take long for him to set up the orchard ladder, making sure the tripod was solid on the soft ground, before climbing up until he could lay his forehead alongside a branch. He took a deep breath and then another, trying to flood his senses with the scents of wood and citrus. It was easier to breathe out here among the trees. Easier to think, with the sudden sharp sense memory of happier times as his parents taught him to care for these trees. He reached up and grasped the nearest orange, testing it. It wouldn't be too long before they were ready for picking. But the payroll was half-spent and they wouldn't have the money to hire — he reminded himself to breathe. Mom and Dad would have known what to do. But if Mom and Dad were still alive, the money wouldn't be gone in the first place. Optimistic, impulsive Mandarin wouldn't have had access to it. He wouldn't have been able to spend it on entry fees and the ridiculous idea of upgrading the racetrack that their parents had built on an unused corner of the property back when Orangin was a baby, and there were too many kids underfoot. What were they going to do? They needed this harvest to pay the taxes. The younger kids deserved to grow up on their own land, the way Mandarin and Kinnowin had. Kinnowin closed his eyes and tried to center his breathing. The money was gone, and there was no use in missing it. He had to focus on what they still had and how it could be used.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Are you coming back? I made Tangerin stop yelling."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Clem. Only a couple of years younger than him, but still in school. Kinnowin opened his eyes, took a final deep breath, arranged his face in something like a smile and started to descend. "Of course, I'm coming back. I was just checking them, Darlin. We've got maybe another week."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Clem nodded. Her legs were out too. They both kept them out as they returned to the house, and Kinnowin slung his arm around his younger sister. She leaned into it, showing just how worried she was. "Are we going to have to bring in the harvest ourselves?" she asked.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Not by themselves. Not entirely. There was still some money left to hire seasonal workers. But fewer than they needed, and they'd all to have to work harder than it was right to ask the younger ones. Clem had the red hair that all of them had inherited from Mom, but her green eyes and pointy chin were all Dad's, stolid and reassuring. His response came easily then. "Nobody in this family is ever by themselves, Darlin." He placed a quick kiss on the top of Clem's head and made a silent promise to her and the rest of his family. They were going to be okay.</em>
</p>
<p>It had been okay. Kinnowin crossed his ankles, and put down his glass, the right words starting to flow now. "Yeah, Mandarin's always been an ideas guy. Our parents were orchardists and uh, we had a lot of land, so when we were kids they built us a track out there. Just a kiddie one, but we had tons of fun recreating our own league events against each other. Orangin learned to roll before he learned to walk." The interviewer raised a skeptical eyebrow, but didn't interrupt. "It's the truth! We all just loved it out there, loved playing with each other. We even competed in some of the junior tournaments in the state, did pretty well too. But, uh, Mom and Dad never wanted us to go too far from home and they always had a rule that chores and schoolwork came first so, it was mostly just for fun." The smile on his face deepened, thinking about it, and the fondness brightening it didn't need to be faked, after all. "After they died, we were all pretty miserable, I guess, and Mandarin kept thinking about how much fun we used to have. He wanted to bring joy back into our lives — that's the kind of guy he is. I thought it was foolish, spending the money like that to build a real track in what was basically our backyard and to get us equipped for the Fruit Circuit. But he was right. It didn't change us — it let our family be the team we always were," he said. "It was a great idea."</p><hr/>
<p>Speedy rolled his eyes as he watched the interview. The O'Marbles continued to be everything wrong with the modern game. Impulsive dabblers with flash, in it for fun, no real sense of the history of the sport or the hard work it took to be really great. Agitated, Speedy got up and opened up his suitcase, pulling one cigarette out of his pack of Gauloises, letting it rest between his lips, a hint of paper on the tip of his tongue. "Can you believe these asses?" Speedy said. On screen, Kinnowin leaned forward, his actions mirrored by the interviewer who was doubtless falling prey to his ocean blue eyes and devil-may-care charm. Speedy cut his eyes toward his brother, who wasn't even paying attention as he slumped across the couch, looking at something on his phone. Speedy raised his voice pointedly. "Throw out a little money and they think it makes them something more than a bunch of hicks with a little luck." </p>
<p>Rapidly looked up from his phone and glared at his brother when he caught sight of the cigarette. "You told me you quit," Rapidly said, rolling into Speedy for emphasis. "And those lucky hicks won gold two years ago," Rapidly reminded him. </p>
<p>"I did quit," Speedy snapped. He opened the balcony doors and threw out the not-yet-lit cigarette. "Last year, they didn't even medal. We've medaled three years in a row. Where's our interview?" </p>
<p>"You hate PR," his brother replied.</p>
<p>"We still should have been asked."</p>
<p>"I'm glad you think so. Coach Quickly told me to tell you to come early tomorrow. That's when they scheduled your interview. " Rapidly picked up the remote control and muted the television. Speedy tried to wrestle him for control of the remote, but Rapidly had the longer arms and Speedy eventually gave it up in favor of glowering from his side of the suite's couch. "This is not what I thought you meant when you said you wanted to review competitor video with me," Rapidly said.</p>
<p>"It isn't what I meant originally," Speedy admitted, running his hands through his hair. He'd gone to set up the tape, and seen the promo for the interview and he'd ... just ended up leaving it on.</p>
<p>"The O'rangers weren't even the ones to beat us last year," Rapidly said gently.</p>
<p>"They're the ones who proved we were beatable."</p>
<p>"That's all it takes? We missed gold by one point last year. It stung, but it shouldn't still be spinning you around like this. We still hold more records and more medals than any other team. Dad said —"</p>
<p>"What does Dad know about it? He doesn't know us. We didn't get to be part of the best team in the league, because we were Dad's kids. We did that on our own." Training as much their mother would let them. Two hours before school, yawning their way through class. Practicing after school until the floodlights came on and the temperature dropped and even Speedy had to admit it was time to go in. It was what they'd had growing up. One parent in Accellaise, and one in Vellis, and the only thing they had in common with either of them and each other was a shared love of Le Tour de Vellis that grew into a love of all marble league events and a hatred of losing. At least, that was how it always seemed to Speedy. He didn't know how Rapidly felt. They both were old enough to know that talking about their parents never led anywhere productive. Speedy and Rapidly had worked hard for every chance they'd gotten, and so had their parents, every win, every prize, rolled over into the next race and the next. That was how it was supposed to be. Learning a craft from your family and working hard to perfect your skill. Not just deciding one day to spend your money on a lark with no real training or family background. "We just have to win this year."</p>
<p>"You say that every year," Rapidly said.</p>
<p>"It's true every year."</p>
<p>Rapidly waved his hand at the screen where Kinnowin O'Marble was still peacocking. "We have lots of competition. Don't get so focused on the O'rangers just because they're all hot." Speedy jabbed at the off button on the remote, outraged at the suggestion. Rapidly raised his brow and smirked, "You think I don't know your type?" Brothers were the worst. "Ass," Speedy said. He got up from the couch and began pulling his jacket on. Taking a day had clearly been a mistake. He didn't know how to just sit around, watching videos. "I'm going down to the stadium."</p>
<p>"They won't let you in. Our practice slot isn't until tomorrow."</p>
<p>"Then I'll go next to the stadium," Speedy said, and rolled out the door.</p><hr/>
<p>2019 — Friendly Round</p>
<p>Kinnowin loved friendly rounds. Kinnowin hated friendly rounds. They were a great chance to get one's head into competitive space, get a sense of the events, and assess the best teams — the ones who had auto-qualified for this year's league. They were also another hoop to jump through before the real competition began, a chance to injure or embarrass oneself for no real gain. Just an exhibition. Kinnowin was already rolled up, positioned at the starting line between Wespy and Bay. He could feel Speedy's eyes on him, but he refused to look over. He'd never spoken two words to any of the Savage Speeders in all the years they'd been competing against each other, but they never-the-less managed to irritate him at every turn. In his pre-interview, he'd been asked about the rivalry between the two teams and managed a polite comment about it being media hype. The O'rangers only competed against themselves and their own limits.</p>
<p>Speedy had not been similarly judicious in his answer to a kindred question in his own interview. Apparently, the O'rangers were brash flash-in-the-pans with more money than talent. An especially ridiculous statement given that Speedy had been walking around all week in Maison Marbre hoodies that easily cost four hundred dollars. Even the Speeders' competition uniforms with their blend of yellow, maroon, and white were livelier than the O'rangers solid plain orange.</p>
<p>The sound of "Ooooooooooo," filtered in from the crowd and Kinnowin waved his arms in acknowledgement and got a louder eruption back. He grinned. The Speeders doubtless had fans in the stands, but he couldn't hear them.</p>
<p>The starting clock began to count down and Kinnowin concentrated on closing his lungs and opening his gills. The timing was so important to get right to have the race advantage, a final push exhaled just before air turned to water. The gate released and he leapt forward, too hard for a friendly round, putting too much churn in the water, a force that soon had him drifting. The lanes were unmarked and irrelevant, but see-sawing back and forth added unnecessary distance. He tried to correct before the first turn, but it was too late, having drifted to the far side in front of Speedy's path. They hit the first turn and Speedy dropped down on him with a gravital thud he felt even underwater, and their exo-spheres rocked hard against each other. He felt a searing pain, but pushed through it and kept going, Speedy in his wake the whole way, but in the end, the spite paid off. Kinnowin floated over the line nearly eight-tenths of a second ahead of Speedy. He held his head high as they were pulled from the water, unwinding his exo-sphere back in. He accepted a towel gratefully from his coach and wiped the water out of his eyes to look at his arm, though he could feel the pain decreasing. He glanced down, and instead of seeing the wound he'd expected, he saw color, the soulmate outline they all were born with, suddenly filled in, in shades of dark brown and maroon. It was beautiful. It was Speedy.</p>
<p>He looked up then, searching and found Speedy, right hand clutching his left arm, and looking back at Kinnowin. Kinnowin took a step toward him. It was too much. Speedy stepped back, and then he turned, and then he was gone.</p>
<p>Kinnowin covered the mark with his towel and hoped the cameras hadn't caught it. He still had another race to go.</p><hr/>
<p>Speedy managed to avoid Kinnowin all day. It was easy, with the awareness of the bond starting to merge into place. He couldn't sense his thoughts or emotions yet, but Speedy could already sense his presence and the distance between them. Trying to block it out was giving him a headache, but he refused to stop. He couldn't think about what had happened, wasn't ready for it to be real. </p>
<p>Unfortunately, Speedy couldn't avoid Kinnowin the next morning. Speedy had assumed he'd be safe so early in the morning, in the room set aside for ablutions, only himself and the Crazy Cat Eyes saying Fajr. Even Rapidly didn't join in, being far more secular in his habits.</p>
<p>He felt Kinnowin's approach in the bond, and tried to ignore it, concentrating on his prayer, relieved when he felt him pause outside the room. If Kinnowin had any sense of decency, he wouldn't come in. Maybe Speedy could just stay in here until Kinnowin left. He could feel the concerned looks from the members of the Cats Eyes as he slowly stretched, making no move to roll up his prayer rug and exit. He was usually one of the first out of the door, and there was a change in the mood of the room that showed they knew something was up, though not what. He wondered if the cuff on his arm was as obvious as it felt. He'd never cared about wearing one in the past. Did they remember? Did they understand the change.</p>
<p>Speedy watched them leave, trying to place himself in a spot invisible as the door opened. He waited. He heard voices in the hall, though their contents were lost to him. He heard footsteps retreating, but the awareness of Kinnowin's presence didn't fade, and Speedy knew he was still outside the door. It opened, but it was only Red Eye, with an apologetic smile, and the determination that led to one becoming the youngest captain in the league.</p>
<p>"Kinnowin O'Marble's waiting for you," Red Eye said.</p>
<p>"I know."</p>
<p>"Do you want me to have him leave?" They didn't know each other well, but Speedy had always liked Red Eye, cheerful, enthusiastic and not yet on the circuit long enough to dim his awe. Red Eye's eyes were gentle and too knowing, and Speedy felt embarrassed to need such tenderness from someone younger than him.</p>
<p>They would have to talk eventually. It might as well be now. "No," Speedy answered. "I just need a moment."</p>
<p>"I can give you that," Red Eye said and went back into the hall.</p>
<p>The murmur from the hall rose again, and this time Speedy could make out pieces of the conversation. They were talking about Marbula One courses and the redesign of theirs that the O'Marbles were planning.</p>
<p>The tone of Kinnowin's voice was calm and steady, and that reassured Speedy more than anything. He stepped out into the hall.</p>
<p>Red Eye melted away with a promise to e-mail Kinnowin the name of some book on course design, and then they were alone. Speedy stared at the man in front of him, and let him stare back. If he had thought of the O'rangers as individuals at all, it was in designations like the fast one or the goofy one. Kinnowin had been the calm one, who tended to get the longer endurance races. He had sometimes been the handsome one, with ocean-colored eyes that pulled you in like the tide and powerful legs to bracket you, but those thoughts had been fleeting, and not something he thought of as a sign that this was his soulmate.</p>
<p>He wondered what Kinnowin thought when he looked at him.</p>
<p>"Curly," Kinnowin said. "Your hair," he explained. "I bet it would catch on my fingers." He held out his arm and pulled back his cuff, letting Speedy see the mark. "It's your eyes and your hair," he said, pointing the brown spots. "And I guess a little of your uniform, too. Maybe because that's where your heart is. In your team."</p>
<p>"You can hear me," Speedy responded flatly. It felt unfair the Kinnowin was already getting full thoughts while Speedy's connection was still faint. Maybe just a suggestion of emotion.</p>
<p>"It is unfair," Kinnowin agreed. He put his cuff back. "You don't want —" He broke off and switched what he was going to say, "the bond," he finished carefully. Speedy didn't need to read his mind to understand what he'd almost said.</p>
<p>"It's not you."</p>
<p>"Yeah, it is."</p>
<p>"We live in different countries, forty-five hundred miles apart."</p>
<p>"Why does it matter?" Kinnowin asked. The emotions from the bond were growing stronger the longer they talked, and Speedy could feel the sadness Kinnowin felt, and the rejection.</p>
<p>There was only one answer Speedy could think of that was both kind and true. "Because we're not on the same team, and we never will be."</p><hr/>
<p>They stayed away from each other then, for the rest of the tournament. Though their mental bond grew stronger, they avoided talking to each other over it, and as if Speedy and Kinnowin's issues had infected their own teammates, event after event was a string of disappointments, and for the first time, neither team took the overall podium in the end.</p><hr/>
<p>The off-season was strange that year, in some ways passing in the same rhythm as previous seasons, and in others completely new. The time zone difference gave them mental privacy to a point when they needed it, but they got familiar anyway, naturally over time, and their fantasies mingled by degrees.</p>
<p>Speedy regretted not having kissed Kinnowin, not knowing what the taste of him was really like, what the feel of his legs around him would have been. Kinnowin longed to know the exact feel of the scrape of Speedy's beard and the texture of his curls.</p>
<p>Their desires weren't only sexual. They talked sometimes, little confessions at first. "We got the letter today that our season two course was approved for Marbula One. I thought of you coming here for the competition and showing you the orchard."

"The sun came out and it was only a little cold. I thought of you next to me and how the light would touch your hair."

"I thought of you."

"I thought of you."

Bigger confessions came too. It surprised them both when Speedy went first. "My parents could never make it work, even with the bond. They chose to live in different cities, and I resented them for it."</p>
<p>"But they're alive," Kinnowin confirmed.</p>
<p>"They're alive."</p>
<p>"And you talk to them."</p>
<p>"Yes," Speedy thought. There was a wordless gap over their connection that was eventually filled by a soft burst of emotion from Kinnowin, like a comforting squeeze on the arm in acknowledgement. </p>
<p>"I wasn't trying to make you feel," Kinnowin paused, but Speedy already knew how the sentence ended, "bad."</p>
<p>"I know," Speedy thought back at him, and returned the squeeze. "It isn't a competition. Whose parents make whom sadder."</p>
<p>"That's one thing between us that isn't a competition."</p>
<p>"Only the first one," Speedy thought. It wasn't a caution, but a promise. There would be more.</p>
<p>"Only the first," Kinnowin agreed, and it felt like an accord.</p><hr/>
<p>2020 — Marathon Qualifier</p>
<p>2020 rolled around, and they were in proximity again, and it was the same, trying to captain their teams, but different, with their tentative accord still fragile. By mutual agreement, they kept their distance, and then it was the last event, the marathon, and there was no distance to be kept, being placed side-by-side in the qualifier. Kinnowin ignored Speedy completely, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on Minty Fresh in front of him. Speedy looked. Kinnowin could feel him looking. He tried not to wonder what Speedy would like like among the trees in Orglando. He would see it someday maybe.</p>
<p>"Yes," Speedy said.</p>
<p>Kinnowin froze, certain he was hearing things. He turned then with no thought of what he would say. He opened his mouth, nothing came out, and tried again. "Now?" he finally said. "Now?"</p>
<p>"Yes," Speedy said again. "I know," he said. "The timing's all off, but you're right here, next to me, and it just hit me. I couldn't run away from you —"</p>
<p>"Anybody's going to do any running ahead, it's going to be me."</p>
<p>It was a poor joke. "Shut up," Speedy muttered, taking in the look on Kinnowin's face. He thought at him, hard, and Kinnowin shuddered, nodding. They leaned toward each other, and then they were kissing, on the mouth, wet and desperate and firm. "Sorry," he said, as the kiss broke. Minty Fresh and some of the others were turning, gaping, ruining their footing.</p>
<p>"Red Eye told me," Kinnowin said, and it was obviously a painful memory for him, hard to get out. "That day he told me — when Speedy makes up his mind, he's all in." There was a dampness in the words. "I thought, I thought you were all in on never — God, we've got to race, why now?"</p>
<p>Speedy laughed, feeling lighter than he had in months. "Have you not done the math?"</p>
<p>The starter bell rang and Speedy ran for it, heart bursting with so much emotion, it almost felt like there was none left for speed. Kinnowin was behind him somewhere. Good, Speedy thought, let him be the one to have to catch up for once. When the qualifier was over, Speedy was in front and Kinnowin at the back, as far apart as fate could put them. But that didn't matter. Speedy <em>had</em> done the math, and in the overall standings, Speeders had gotten gold, and the O'rangers silver.</p>
<p>They made their way to the podium. Speedy could hear the faint Oooooooo chant in the background. Kinnowin looked at him. All the O'Marbles were looking at him, and his brother and his teammates. A ninth place finish, and it was the best marathon Speedy had ever run.</p>
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